


Even if it kills me, you're the one I want.

by Webtrinsic



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Basically I rewrote chapter 2 where Reddie happens and Eddie has more demons brought to light, Eddie Kaspbrak Has OCD - Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, Eddie has tattoos, Eddie is smoking hot, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Panic, Gay Richie Tozier, Heroin, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Oblivious Richie Tozier, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, Past Drug User Eddie Kaspbrak, Proceed with caution, Protective Richie Tozier, Recover, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Richie Tozier, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Trigger Warnings, Use of Homophobic Slur, fuck Henry Bowers, vomit warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 02:42:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20866895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: It's been twenty seven years since Eddie had even thought of Derry, that could be because he didn't actually remember a lick of his childhood, but it was more likely due to the fact he'd figured out he was gay, practically married his mother which lead to a nasty divorce, and is still fighting the temptation of relapse when he'd been clean for ten years.A phone call from Mike changes that, as does Richie Trashmouth Tozier and a killer clown that is determined to kill them all.





	Even if it kills me, you're the one I want.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ExistingInAStateOfBeing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExistingInAStateOfBeing/gifts).

> I love James and Bill with all my heart. I hope you all enjoy, contact info at the bottom! 
> 
> legit just search up young james ransone, you will see the pictures I'm referencing, I tried adding it to the fic but legit I can't figure out how to make it work.

The steering wheel remained firm in his grip, even as the car spun out, clashing with one of the many lamp posts lining every corner of New York city. A voice calling through the speaker concerned in a way that Eddie couldn’t quite understand due to the foreignness of its deliverer. 

_Mike Hanlon, Derry Maine._ The name sounded vaguely familiar, every name someone told you did. Derry Maine though, Eddie didn’t remember it much, not its buildings or stores, or even what experiences he’d been through there, he just knew it was where he’d grown up. 

Eddie wondered if his forgetfulness of his past is what had his heart jumping in fear, it could also be the accident he still had yet to recover from even now when he finally realized the pounding at his window. 

“You need to come back,” Mike’s voice urged, still tight with worry but heavy in what Eddie couldn’t mistake for anything else but a weight, a burden upon the man’s shoulders. He hung up the call then, slipping out the door to a worried taxi driver which he waved off as he rounded his vehicle to get his registration.

Eddie thought he'd lost his shame in trembling hands, they were always shaking when he’d been...using. He had to brush the thoughts of needles plunging into his skin away then, handing over his paperwork to the other man to take pictures as he did the same. The first photo coming out blurry due to the shock and fear consuming him.

He almost wanted to yell at the taxi driver for the looks he was being given, he had to be a sight. Not only had he divorced his wife that week, who’d taken everything but his car and clothes, but that certain event had triggered the ‘fuck you mom’ mentality he’d adopted once he’d broke away from her grip.

His flannel didn’t have sleeves or sides, that fact displaying not only his tattoos but his lean muscle and scarred inner arm. His hair was in a state as well, not crudely gelled as it had been for years, but wild in it’s own right, and a bit longer in the back. Nothing near close to a mullet though, something in him had always hated mullets yet he didn’t quite know why.

Maybe he’d find out in Derry, it wasn’t as if he had anywhere else to be. Except a rental place because his car was fucking totalled.

\---

‘Welcome to Derry,’ the sign read in worn lettering that didn’t make Eddie feel very welcome, not with the crimes going on he’d read on the horribly outdated news website for the little town while they got his rental car ready.

Missing children and hate crimes, the one where a gay couple had been attacked and all that was left of a boy named Adrian was his inhaler really got to him for some reason, but he knew why.

The only reason he’d been with Myra is because she acted as if she were his mother, not because she was a woman. Even though that small fact did help make him feel safer, less risks of being hurt that way, analyzing risk had always been his speciality, so much so, it was his work. How that trait stemmed still wasn’t something he’d brag to his colleagues about though.

The phone buzzed from where it sat on the seat beside him,  _ Mike _ the screen read. Eddie hated being late, but he had to drop his bags off at the inn first, maybe put on a tie and nicer pants too.

Doing so, Eddie carefully inspected the inn’s room, not trusting the sheets leading him to tear them off and apply his own that were perfectly packed and washed. He may have a rebellious streak filled with tattoos and heroin use, but you can’t get rid of years of smothering that eventually bred him into being a full blown hypochondriac. 

Slipping on a pair of black skinny jeans and tucking his shirt into them, a thin black tie was procured from his bag leading him to tie it around the shirt collar with deft fingers.

He had what he assumed a reunion to go to, something that should make him want to dress in one of his finest tuxes that Myra had always asked him to wear, he just couldn’t see the point in doing that now because he knew how bad of a liar he was. 

If these people were once his friends, who was he to care if they saw him in such a state? They’d probably never see each other again after this...whatever this was, was all over, and if they did, it’d probably take them another twenty seven years.

\---

As Eddie explained to the waitress about his food concerns, a familiar voice echoed through the cheap dividers, Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier.

“Stanley’s a pussy, and Eds would never be this late, he must have joined Stanley’s pussy parade. They aren’t going to show,” He was laughing, and Eddie couldn’t explain why the sound had his heart lodging into his throat only to retort loudly when he entered the area.

“That’s not my name Trashmouth,” The room immediately erupted with several calls of his name, the scuffling of chairs, and laughter. Beverly was hugging him first, her cupping his face and looking pleasantly shocked with his appearance.

Ben was next, Mike joining in halfway through, overly excited, and then Bill.

“Holy shit what’s with you and Ben suddenly becoming hot? You too Bev, but you were always cute Eds,” Richie laughed, embracing Eddie quickly but tightly before grabbing his arm to situate him in the chair closest to his own.

Eddie didn’t mind, just laughed as they settled in their seats, thanking the waitress as she brought out his order.

“Never in my life did I think Eddie would show up late,” Ben laughed, them now all looking to Eddie with expressions of curiosity and disbelief. 

Nodding his head along, he got straight to it, “Um well, when I got the call from Mike, I crashed my car,” gasps were heard, and Eddie just chuckled before eating another eggroll, leaning back against Richie’s protective hand that had moved to his back at those words.

“I had to get a rental, talk with the ambulance, totalled the shit out of my car. Probably going to have some terrible whiplash in the morning but otherwise I’m alright. No idea why that call scared me so much,” 

They all nodded in agreement, “You know I threw up when I got it, I was nervous,” Richie admitted, Eddie taking comfort in the man’s thumb now stroking over one of the knots in his spine, likely unconsciously.

The fortune cookies came out then, an impression of jabba the hutt, the revelation that he was recently divorced, as was Beverly, and the question of when he got tattoos came up as they opened their cookies, Eddie didn’t get to answer that question due to the complete oddity of their cookies fortunes.

Then the cookies started to move and Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Richie had been calling to him.

\---

“You should have said ‘Hey man, wanna come to Derry and get murdered?” Eddie nodded along with Richie’s words, heart hammering in his chest as if it were a rabbit running from a wolf. Stan was dead, the clown was back, his arm burned.

Looking down at the appendage, the horrid realization of he’d only ‘used’ on the arm that he’d broken as a child nearly pushed tears from his eyes. The arm was littered with needle scars, itching in fear and for something he hadn’t used in ten years.

Turning to look away from his friends, Eddie froze at what he saw at the end of the parking lot, sticking up from the sewer. Eddie immediately recoiled, hastily grabbing onto the closest thing which happened to be Richie’s arm, who turned around startled only to freeze as well.

‘I <3 Derry’ written out in a cheesy font on a perfectly still balloon. 

“Mike,” Richie called out angrily, frantic, needing an explanation for a lot of things, but knowing exactly why he was pulling the smaller man behind him, trying desperately to distance Eddie from the balloon.

It was funny how after all these years without seeing him, Richie still felt the need to protect him from the horrors of this town. Felt the need to sweep him into an embrace and kiss him senseless, not that he’d ever gotten to do so.

Eddie wasn’t even gay, he’d just divorced a woman! 

God, Eddie practically screamed ‘sex on a stick’ and if Richie wasn’t so afraid of that demon being back he’d have gone back to his room for a long shower and maybe even to curse at himself for his feelings but Eddie now was tucked into his side, terrified, and Richie couldn’t help but remember the projector and how they’d held to one another then too.

He’d take what he could get.

\---

“Eduardo let’s go!” Richie shouted, anxiously watching as Ben and Bev cornered one another in what seemed to be a tense conversation. One he quickly found himself in when it was proclaimed she’d seen them all die, knew how Stan was going to die before it even happened.

“What?” Eddie was asking, his bags heavy and packed at the end of the stairs, and Richie was honest to god confused as hell as to why he had so much luggage, then again, he’d just gotten divorced. Where was Eddie staying? In his car? The one that was now totaled!

“The deadlights,” Mike explained, both Bill and him appearing from nowhere. 

They had to do a ritual, one Richie did not want to do but quickly changed his mind at what happened next.

“So we’ll die if we don’t kill it on this term?”

“How do we die?”

“How did I die?”

Beverly was clearly uncomfortable, saying things under her breath, backing away and fumbling with her cigarettes. Eddie must have heard one of those words and it struck a cord because he was in a chair in seconds, holding to his hair and honest to god panicking. 

Head shaking back and forth, “I wouldn’t, not again,” Richie heard, instinct taking over as he rushed to Eddie’s side while the others tried to calm Bev. Eddie didn’t flinch as Richie pulled him close, hugging him and Eddie returned it, hiding in his shoulder, shaking with sobs.

Yeah, Richie was going to stay and beat that fucking clown to death.

\---

It saddened Richie just a little that he could no longer see Eddie’s tattooed physique, it now replaced with a red hoodie with a plain grey T-shirt beneath, his jeans also weren't as tight as they had been the day before.

Richie tried to push those thoughts away as they headed through the barrens, looking for their old clubhouse. Eddie walking close but a few paces ahead, something Richie took comfort in, it gave him a full view of Eddie incase he needed to help him.

It was the same deal when they were kids too, and as hilarious as it was to hear younger Eddie complain about his wide strides and giraffe legs taking him somewhere too quickly for Eddie to keep up. It kept him grounded knowing Eddie was in his sight, even if he had to take shorter strides that left him walking a little funny, but he could blame it on the mud and twigs they were stepping over.

Ben seemed to find the clubhouse, more accurately he fell into it. 

\---

“I nominate Eddie, he’s small enough to fit on a grill,” 

“I’m average height you ass,”

“Whatever you say hot stuff,”

\---

“Just trying to add some levity to this shit. I’ll go fuck myself,”

\---

As much as Eddie and Richie thought it was a stupid idea, they went to get their tokens alone.

\---

The leper held Eddie hard against the shaking shelves of vials, it’s tongue darting, words garbled and sickly. Needles were strewn about, the leper grabbing it, and Eddie’s heart froze because he knew what was in there.

It was so close to piercing his skin, so goddamn close, Eddie was shouting angry at himself and the world as he choked the leper to high hell until it was small and nearly frightened before his world erupted into a black sludge of vomit.

“Don’t you want one last dose Eddie?” It asked as he ran out of that damn basement, fumbling with the door as he rushed back to the inn. So out of it he crashed into Richie in the parking lot, looking equally as startled.

Eddie wasn’t thinking as he fumbled past him, gripping his bad arm in a tight grip, tears in his eyes and assurances on his lips as Bev and Ben tried to ask if he was alright.

He wasn’t alright, he was  _ dirty. _

Both inside and out, leper vomit was everywhere, nearly sending him slipping down the stairs if Richie who he didn’t even know was trailing him caught him.

He had to shower now, he had to get clean. Wipe away the slightest hint of wanting that damn needle back in his arm. He was no longer an addict? No of course he still was, not to heroin exclusively he hadn’t-wouldn’t- do that ever again. But his dependency on pills was still there, ingrained into his brain from years of torment from his mother this town now had him remembering all too clearly. 

He could imagine the relapse fluently in his head, it had to be  _ It _ . Begging him to atrophy, all induced by himself, because nothing scared him more than himself doing those horrible things that would make him sick and die of his own volition.

“Eds, it’s okay. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Richie was asking, pulling an ever so frightened Eddie with him into his own room, unaware he’d just saved Eddie from Bowers who was waiting in the shorter man’s bathroom, knife in hand.

“Dirt, no needles, I need to shower, new clothes,” Eddie sounded hoarse and breathless, “Brush teeth,” the hypochondriac added, eyes crazy and glazed over in panic as Richie pulled them into the bathroom and started the shower.

“Okay I’ll go get your things, you shower, okay?” Richie clarified, prying the tight grip Eddie had on his arm away, noticing the ringlets of blood from Eddie’s nails. His eyes widening at the amount of smaller scars littered across the pale skin of his childhood and current crush.

Richie had been accused of being on drugs for years, he never actually had been on something that wasn’t actually prescribed, and he didn’t abuse those ones either. But he knew the marks when he saw them, and these were all decently faded, so much so he wasn’t entirely worried of relapse.

But now he understood why Eddie was crying so hard about needles, needing to be clean, ‘wouldn’t do it again’, his poor Eds. Where was he when Eddie needed him? 

Richie realistically knew he shouldn’t feel guilty, but he did. He’d only ever wanted to protect him, at least he could now.

\---

Richie dodged the knife and shoved hard at Bowers, sending the other man careening out the window with a knife in his chest, blood all over the bathroom floor that he was sure Ed’s would have a heart attack over later. Luckily nothing got on Eddie's toothbrush.

\---

Eddie although still obviously shaken didn’t question why his things were now in Richie’s room, nor did he question when Richie handed him an outfit or went into the bathroom to retrieve his soiled clothes to throw out, only stopping at the softly whispered reminder to grab the shower cap out of his pocket.

Eddie was pliant as he wore a white shirt and thin wool jacket and his grey joggers. Sliding on his tennis shoes, and walking out of the room to find the others who were now in the lobby. 

“We ready to go to Mike?” Ben questioned, patiently looking to Eddie.

“Yeah,” Eddie hummed, moving with them to the door only for Richie to gently grip his shoulder, stopping him for a second.

“Are you sure Eds?” Eddie knew that tone, that soft considerate tone reserved only for him when Richie was especially worried.

“It won’t work without all of us dipshit,” Eddie replied just as fondly, still clueless to the fact Bowers had been there earlier to kill him, and Richie was honest to god hopelessly in love with him even after finding out about what he’d done in the past. 

But Richie wasn’t aware of how much Eddie loved him back either.

\---

“Let’s kill this fucking clown,”

\---

Eddie couldn’t let that Stan head kill Richie, but his body wasn’t cooperating, no matter how badly he tried, his only luck being a small kick that sent the blade to Bill’s palm who managed to stab it through the fake Stanley’s head and help Richie, who was up on his feet quickly, asking if Eddie was okay and Eddie never wanted to kiss someone more even when he was covered in filth.

\---

“I don’t want to be alone,” they came up for air then, Eddie no longer had a heavy heart that he’d lost his first love without even telling him.

\---

“What if I get us killed? Richie I froze up when you needed me,”

“I’m fine Eds, you’re braver than you think,” Eddie leaned his head into the hand cupping his cheek. His next words were soft, but there was so much meaning and history behind them.

“Thanks Richie,”

\---

“Placebos,” That damn clown taunted, sending them running and fleeing. Richie’s hand and Eddie’s entertwined as they ducked into a seperating cave only to come across three doors. The floor fell out from under them before they could even attempt to open them, separating them from one another much to their dismay.

\---

Richie’s eyes opened to the stage, the seats all filled with angry people yelling insults, calling him out, exposing him.

“Fairy!”

“Faggot!”

“Eddie will never love you back!”

“You’re dirty trashmouth!”

Words hurt, Richie knew this well, always had, but the insults were easily brushed off for now. That damn clown had separated him from Eddie. He had to find Eddie.

\---

Eddie’s head lifted, the first thing he noticed being he was sitting in a wheelchair. Limbs strapped down, the arm that was once branded with lo <strike> _ s _ </strike> ** _v_ ** er was facing upwards, the tie he’d been wearing the first night he’d arrived in Derry tied tightly around the upper portion so his veins were more visible. 

“No, no please, no,” Eddie whispered to himself, jerking in the chair to no avail.

“What's wrong Eddie? We used to do this all the time, even when it freaked you out, you needed it, made you feel better,” Eddie’s head shot up at the voice, his college roommate. The same roommate who’d gotten him black out drunk and offered him heroin while he couldn’t even remember his own name.

“I even got you a fresh needle,” he crooned, Eddie struggling hard enough to rub his wrist and ankles raw.

“No, not again, I couldn’t, I didn’t want to. I couldn’t help it after, stop,” Eddie wailed, watching as the bastard got closer, his body slowly but surely morphing into the decrepit leper that had been tormenting him since his youth.

A needle was in his hand, rotting and bent fingers resting on the plunger. The liquid inside was not the same as he remembered, this one was black. Not moving as fluidly either, it could only be explained as tar. 

“I don’t want it,” Eddie screamed, more voices filtering through the lepers laughter as he got closer. One sentence odd enough and significant enough to ignite such a ferocious fire in him that he’d never screamed so loudly in his life, or with as much anguish.

_ “Eddie will never love you back,”  _ Pennywise was wrong.

“Richie!” The leper continued to grow closer, and his tears and cries only got worse.

“Please Richie I love you!” Nothing, not even his comebacks had ever left his lips so fluently, the words were truth. Luckily the truth is exactly what Richie in his hell needed to hear, the comedians head turned from the stage and angry audience to the emergency exit where Eddie’s words were loud and clear.

Richie ran and broke the door from its hinges, startling whatever thing was inching towards a tied up Eddie who looked frightened yet so very relieved to see him. Especially as that thing moved to plunge whatever black guck was in that syringe into Eddie’s arm. Richie didn’t let it, he too choked the leper until it was small and the illusion faded. The two scrambling to one another immediately after, now in front of three blood stained doors where their lips met for the first time in their lives, when it should have happened much sooner.

\---

“Yippee Ki Yay motherf-”

Eddie watched horrified from where Richie had told him to stay put, the old iron fence post Bev had brought with her lay on the ground, waiting to be picked up and vaulted into the lights that were making Richie’s blood float up into the air.

“It kills monsters, if you believe it does. If you believe it does!” If Eddie’s mind wasn’t so focused on helping Richie, maybe he’d have found it poetic that his Lo <strike> _ s _ </strike> **v** er arm had dealt the blow that helped save Richie.

\---

“I think I killed it-mph!” Richie was pulling Eddie down into a kiss and rolling them away from the claw the deadlights had shown killed his Eddie just seconds before. It didn’t last long, not with them still needing to run, which they did, until the arm swung back, flinging both of them down into a cavern with the others rushing to their aid.

Eddie who was already sore from his car crash jumped to his feet, nearly fainting when black dots clouded his vision but they did nothing to deter him from getting to Richie who was pushing himself up from the ground as well, arms scraped up from where he’d put them out so Eddie didn’t scrape against the caves walls in their fall.

Pennywise looked down at them from the caverns opening, the Loser’s huddling in close. 

“How do we kill it?” Someone asked, Eddie honestly didn’t know who because their voices were muffled from where he was now entrapped in Richie’s arms. The taller man shaking, his heart beating in a mantra under his ear.

“We make it small,” Eddie managed, tugging away from the embrace in the slightest but still holding on which no one seemed surprised by. 

“How do we do that?”

“There’s a way out this way!”

“It won’t work, he’ll cut us off,”

“There’s other ways to make someone small,”

“Make them believe it,”

They bullied the clown that tormented their childhoods to death, crushed his heart, and headed to the quarry.

\---

Richie sat in the most shallow part of the water he could find, still idly floating as the image of Eddie’s impaled body burned behind his eyelids. He knew it wasn’t real, but he cleaned his glasses anyway, even when there wasn’t any blood on them to begin with.

“This waters disgusting,” Eddie murmured, his head tucked against the side of Richie’s throat. Richie’s arms were circled around him, holding the smaller man in his lap, taking comfort in the soft breaths that were drying the water on his skin.

“We can shower when we get back to the inn, plus I saw all that antiseptic you have in your bag,” 

“We?” Eddie murmured jokingly, but considering how tense Richie went at those words he knew his joking wasn’t appreciated.

“If-um-”

“I’m going to hog the shower spray just so you know ‘Chee,” the hypochondriac giggled, situating himself even closer. 

“Come back to California with me,” Richie pleaded, looking down at Eds, exceptionally happy at the lack of blood falling from his lips.

“I will,” Eddie assured. Leaning up and pressing their lips together, and breaking it off at the cheers from their friends whose arms were quickly wrapping around them too.

“Are we going to get a wedding invite?” Bev teased, Eddie smugly returning.

“As long as we get one for yours,”

\---

Eddie stared down at the wood with_ R + E_ carved into it, even more so now as Richie went back over it.

“I did this for you, that summer,” Richie admitted, a little confused by the fond snort of laughter that came out of Eddie’s mouth before he pointed to the heart with an R within it not too far away.

“Me too,”

\---

Eddie entered the living room where his husband was idly flipping through channels, their dog sitting in his lap. The Pomeranian jumping insistently at Richie's face to give him kisses, causing the remote to fall and whatever crime drama that was on to start up a close shot of a needle plunging into someone’s skin.

It was being changed before Eddie could dwell further, fluff now running around his feet as Richie walked up to him and pulled him in for a hug.

“You okay sweetheart?” The taller man murmured into Eddie’s hair.

“With you? Always,” 

“I think our little man wants to go for a walk,” Richie hummed as both of their feet were being trampled on, his large hands brushing over Eddie’s arms where he began to lay kisses that had Eddie’s face turning pink.

“I guess we better take him then,”

**Author's Note:**

> snapchat: allisonw1122  
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